


International Skater Otabek Altin Burns down Entire Complex

by Kiyuomi



Series: JJBek Week 2017 [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Date Night, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Insecurities, M/M, Otabek sucks at cooking, They're really grossly fluffy, but it's okay JJ sucks too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 16:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11878647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyuomi/pseuds/Kiyuomi
Summary: JJBek Week Day 4: InsecuritiesOtabek is surely, absolutely, one-hundred-and-fifty percent certain that he’s horrid at cooking.





	International Skater Otabek Altin Burns down Entire Complex

**Author's Note:**

> I saw angst and insecurities and was ready to break some hearts. Then my sister told me to make something fluffy out of it instead, so here we are. Fluffy insecurities- the best ones.

            It was supposed to be a romantic date night.

            Otabek sighs as long fingers card through his stray locks, knuckles brushing the skin of his head. His feet twitch and narrowly avoid slamming into the wonky blue table they had put together from _Ikea_ , just because JJ had thought it hilarious. It looks less silly in the dim light overcast from their ceiling, two of the three light bulbs dark. Otabek hums when JJ ducks down again, lips just gently pressing against his. Kind, sweet, and when Otabek pulls away he can admire the soft smile that adorns his lover’s face.

            He can almost pretend that the air isn’t heavy with the scent of burnt.

            “You’re distracted,” JJ murmurs, shifting on Otabek’s lap and pressing impossibly closer. It’s a statement, not an accusation, but Otabek feels his fingers tighten on JJ’s waist at the words. The sensation tickles and JJ jerks, but then he’s laughing a quiet giggle and Otabek finds his hands relax. “Why so jumpy?”

“You know why.” It isn’t like Otabek to be the one pouting from failed endeavors, but he  can’t help the downward pull of his lips. JJ laughs again, entirely too amused, and Otabek is quick to snatch a kiss, then another, until they’re just trading little loving nips. The throw pillows under Otabek squeak their outrage at their combined weight, though he simply leans back further to allow JJ to climb over him.

            “Enlighten me,” JJ teases. His hands roam from Otabek’s head to his shoulders, kneading into willing muscles. Otabek relents, already knowing that his face will redden simply by the memory of what has occurred, and knowing that JJ will delight in his reaction nonetheless.

            It would be insulting if it were anyone else, but Otabek’s long learned that he’s weak to a pushy Canadian’s charm.

            “So bossy,” Otabek attempts, pinching JJ’s side to see him squawk. The fingers on his shoulder tighten, warning, and he stops, pulling JJ back onto him. “I ruined tonight.”

            The Cheshire grin JJ lords over him should not be so attractive.

            “Excuse me, sir.” Otabek is already rolling his eyes twice over at the horrible accent JJ’s taken on, even as he feels his cheeks redden more. “Could you give me some more detail of tonight’s, ah, fire?”

            Yes, Otabek had set off the smoke alarm. Yes, he had entertained an entire truck of firefighters and police at his door, truly and failing to keep his calm when he was clad only in a loose pair of boxers. Yes, he had internally suffered when a single police officer took a double take at JJ, wearing only a pair of tight-fitting jeans, and then snapped a picture.

            No, he does not want to actually recount tonight’s event.

            “I bet that picture is going to make it to the morning news,” Otabek mutters instead, reveling in the flush that falls over JJ at the memory. The man had asked for his autograph too, and on his _belt_. To “preserve it” forever. Otabek is fairly certain he just wanted to memorize the sight of JJ hovering over his groin.

            Otabek would like to think himself above jealousy. His looping hands around JJ’s waist to pull him in even closer would like to prove otherwise.

            “I think ‘International Skater Altin burns down entire complex’ would be a better fitting title.” To be fair, Otabek didn’t actually burn down the building. They’re just quite aware of how the media likes to exaggerate.

            If Otabek finds a channel claiming that he tried to murder JJ by setting him on fire, he wouldn’t even be surprised. They’d probably call it competition.

            Still, “I am sorry for ruining tonight,” Otabek says. JJ pulls a frown at that, already opening his mouth to rebuke and Otabek takes his chance to kiss him a little more deeply. The little squeak of surprise from JJ only spurs him on; the pull on his hair makes him a little weak in the knees. It’s a good thing they’re on the couch.

            JJ pulls back first, mouth ajar and shiny red, and Otabek leans in to kiss him again.

            “Otabek,” sorry for setting off the smoke alarms, “Ota,” nope, too busy kissing boyfriend, “bek,” distracted. JJ bites his bottom lip this time, just hard enough to hurt, and Otabek hisses, finally letting go to swipe along the indent. The look JJ sends him is smug, though the disheveled state of his messy hair, swollen lips and the thin line of saliva from the side of his mouth to his chin finds Otabek smug as well.

            “Otabek,” JJ tries again, huffing as Otabek mimics another lean in for a kiss. When he doesn’t land, he can at least revel in the flicker of disappointment on JJ. “You didn’t ruin the night.” The large footprints on their kitchen tile would like to say otherwise, as well as the burned pasta in the trash. JJ rolls his eyes, the unspoken words understood.

            When Otabek kisses him again, JJ obliges him. No teeth, no bite, no tongue. Just the soft feeling of lips on lips, the fingers combing his hair gentle, the stroke along his collarbone. Otabek holds out until he hears a dreamy sigh before letting his lips curl into a smile. His hands wander up closer until he’s cuddling around JJ, one hand curled in the back of his shirt and the other on his thigh. It’s hard to play big spoon when you’re the shorter, but JJ always lets him try.

            Sometimes, like now, they manage to get pretty comfortable.

            JJ sighs again, soft, pliable, and Otabek hums against him. The tension of the night has already found its way out; the moment JJ had collapsed against him in a fit of laughter, a mixture of “I can’t believe you burned pasta” and “I can’t believe we had firefighters come”, Otabek had felt every anxious nerve in his skin still. It is rather hard to be unsure of yourself when the most wonderful person in the world is your boyfriend, and he thinks you fantastic.

            Realistically, everyone thinks their lover is pretty amazing, but Otabek is certain that his is the most.

            “You’re distracted,” JJ points out. Otabek huffs, knowing full well that anything he says will only inflate JJ’s ego. It’s worth it to see the beautiful smile cast his way; even if JJ greets him with it every morning, Otabek would argue it never lost a hint of its charm.

            “Just thinking about you,” Otabek admits and JJ flashes that wonderful smile.

            “I can’t blame you. I’m pretty fabulous.” Familiar banter. Otabek sighs this time, simply tired, not irritated. JJ kisses him again, on his cheek, on his nose, on the lids of his eyes. He feels spoiled, rotten, even though JJ swears that no amount of flattery would ever be too much. To be fair, Otabek is never upset when JJ gets into a mood like this.

            The smell of smoke is almost gone, drifted away by the wind from their windows. Or perhaps, more realistically, Otabek’s nose had just adapted to the odor.

            When JJ tilts his head to kiss at his temple, Otabek kisses his jaw. JJ hums, and the vibration of it makes warmth in Otabek swim at his head. He kisses him again and again, along his jaw to his neck, then down to mouth at his collarbones. When JJ moans, just the littlest bit filthy, Otabek shivers.

            Then his stomach growls, and the mood is lost.

            They both laugh then, as though the pink tints to their faces isn’t arousal, as though JJ’s hand hadn’t drifted down to his pants, as though Otabek hadn’t had his fingers digging in his hips. JJ shifts out of his hold and the places where he was just on, his chest, his hands, his lap, his everything, feel cold at the sudden absence.

            JJ grabs Otabek’s cellphone from the outlet, reading 72%, and returns, legs over leg and firmly back on Otabek’s lap.

            “Take out?” It’s eleven forty-three at night and Otabek doubts many places with a respectable menu is still open. But he’s hungry for food, along with other things, and it’s never been easy to say no to JJ.

            “Take-out,” Otabek agrees, and when JJ kisses him again, just a little peck on his lips, he can’t deny that he might not have ruined the night entirely.

            JJ allows Otabek to lick the loose crumbs of deep-fried dumplings and hummus off his fingers half an hour later, and Otabek has to admit that burning their dinner isn’t the worst thing he could have done.

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel:   
> The next morning:  
> INTERNATIONAL SKATER ALTIN BURNS DOWN ENTIRE COMPLEX. FRONT PAGE NEWS EXTRA EXTRA READ ALL ABOUT IT. 
> 
> The local paper: “I GOT HIS BELT” Trusted officer relays his story of finding his chosen occupation truly rewarding in more ways than one.
> 
> Their gas company called them to say they heard about the fire and they were cutting off his supply.


End file.
